


The Voyeur

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, Masturbation, The Quidditch Pitch: More Than Two, Threesome or Moresome, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-20
Updated: 2006-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-26 06:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10781760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: He knows it’s wrong, knows it’s invading their privacy, but he can’t stop watching





	The Voyeur

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Inspired by the Voyeurism challenge at [](http://community.livejournal.com/hp_het_kink/profile)[**hp_het_kink**](http://community.livejournal.com/hp_het_kink/). I'm not a member of that particular group but this fic came to mind when I saw their challenge post for April so...blame them? *sheepish smile*  
Thanks to [](http://schmoo999.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoo999**](http://schmoo999.livejournal.com/) and [](http://leogryffin.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://leogryffin.livejournal.com/)**leogryffin** for looking this over.  


* * *

He hated parties.

 

Especially parties thrown by his youngest brother’s new wife.

 

Pansy Parkinson Weasley was overwhelming in normal circumstances: being far too talkative, image conscious, and _girly_ to not get on his last nerve after only a few moments in her company. Since she’d married Ron, these parties had seemed to become habit. Nearly every six weeks he’d received an invite, debating whether or not to attend, and always apparating in for the party at the last moment. Bill would have preferred sitting beneath the sky back home looking at the stars and ignoring the heat, compared to making idle chit chat with people he didn’t know or particularly care to know.

 

He knew the reason he always gave in at the end. Actually, it was two reasons: Charlie and Hermione. His younger brother and the bratty girl who’d always annoyed him with her curiosity and need to constantly ask questions and argue. He’d admired her intelligence when she was a kid, though her refusal to just simply _do_ something without being told exactly why and debating the task even whilst they were at War had infuriated him more times than he could count. He’d seen her as the bushy haired pest all these years, firmly set in his mind’s way of seeing her as the fourteen year old gawky little brat he’d first met.

 

It had taken an unexpected incident for him to finally see her as a rather beautiful twenty-five year old woman. It had been the first party Pansy had thrown. He’d immediately sought escape as soon as possible, walking onto the balcony of their guest room and having a smoke. The party had been noisy and he had no interest in bedding one of Ron’s little friends, though many were willing. When Charlie and Hermione had started another argument about the bloody way dragons were kept at most preserves, a fight they had practically every time they were in the same room and that he could probably quote verbatim, he’d gone upstairs.

 

A sudden noise in the bedroom behind him had distracted him from his peaceful smoke. To say he was surprised to see Charlie and Hermione snogging like their lives depended on their contact, well, that was a vast understatement. He’d heard them bickering for years, even worse than Ron and Hermione when they were teens, and he’d never once noticed anything sexual about it. As he watched them, his hand moving to the sudden erection as he saw her naked in the pale moonlight that lit the room, he was more aroused than he’d ever been. Forgetting that it was his own brother making her scream, he’d let his eyes move over their naked, sweaty forms, listening to their words that indicated this was nothing new at all for them, his hand moving faster and faster until he’d come, biting his lip to keep from moaning.

 

That had begun his fascination, if you will, with Charlie and Hermione. He paid attention to things he’d always ignored or never even noticed. With no clear idea why they were keeping their obvious relationship secret, he’d not said a word about what he saw. However, every time he received an invite, he’d end up attending, waiting for their inevitable heated exchange of words on one topic or another, the only time he could recall ever really seeing Charlie, who was usually the quiet and calm Weasley, making a bit of a fuss. When they started their bickering, he’d go for a smoke, hiding on the balcony, wanking as he watched them fuck.

 

He’d been thinking about watching them for days, since he’d received the invite, and he’d lost track of how many times he’d come during the last year just from remembering them together, thinking about it being _himself_ between her thighs making her cry out with pleasure. For a brief moment, he wondered if they’d broken up because the evening was half over and they’d not begun their odd foreplay. Then, when he was holding his glass, his eyes fervently looking from one to another for signs that they were no longer involved, he’d seen them exchange a brief smile and a wink before their ritual began for the evening. Elated, he’d quickly made his way to _his_ spot on the balcony, waiting for them.

 

He didn’t have long to wait.

 

“Shameless vixen,” Charlie murmured as they entered the room, locking the door behind them before their lips were all over each other. “You know how hard I get when you’re walking around with that prissy smile and I know you’re not wearing knickers beneath your dress.”

 

“Hmph,” Hermione snorted, her smile enough to cause Bill’s cock to twitch against his trousers, his hand squeezing the growing erection seeking freedom. “I’m not the only one without pants on beneath my clothes, Mister Weasley.”

 

“Easier to fuck you without ‘em,” Charlie told her with a grin. Bill watched his brother, his favorite though he’d never admit to having an actual favorite, pull her against him, large hands he knew had rough palms and calloused fingers slipping beneath her dress. The fabric was pulled over her head, tossed to the floor, and he saw a glimpse of her breasts as Charlie pushed her to the bed.

 

“We have to hurry, Charlie,” she said in a voice that was full of sass and demand. Bill finally unzipped his trousers and freed his cock, his fingers wrapping around the length and languidly stroking. He knew from Charlie’s chuckle that she’d be kept waiting, able to identify most of their sounds after watching them together over half a dozen times. “Someone might notice we’re missing.”

 

“Doubtful,” Charlie replied, his clothes soon joining hers on the floor. Bill’s eyes lingered on the vivid flash of color on his brother’s shoulder blade, trailing down his freckled back to his firm arse. He’d seen Charlie naked lots of times, their age difference minimal, both discovering the joy of wanking around the same time: Charlie early for his age and Bill a bit late. It seemed he was always a bit late with things that mattered, his eyes moving to where Hermione was lying naked on the bed, her hair tumbling around her face in wild curls, and a look of sin in her brown eyes. “They’ve never noticed us sneaking out any time in the past year nor have they seemed to realize we’ve been shagging like rabbits for nearly two years. They’re not the most observant people, love.”

 

“Why are we talking when we could be kissing?” she asked with a bit of a pout, laughing when Charlie jumped on the bed beside her, his lips capturing hers as his hand moved along the curves of her breasts and past the soft swell of her hips.

 

Bill leaned his head against the glass balcony door, the curtain concealing his presence but thin enough for him to see everything. Charlie’s hand was between her legs, and Bill just _knew_ he was teasing her. His fingers probably had her spread open, juices glistening on the pink folds of her cunt, his middle two fingers slowly moving in and out, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit. The room was lit with candles but he couldn’t see close enough from his position to know if he was right.

 

Watching them, he stroked his cock, his fingers moving up and down slowly, knowing he wanted to come with them and not before. Charlie was rubbing against her leg, his erection leaking pre-come, and Bill could actually see wetness glistening when he shifted, her cunt on display, her thigh wet with Charlie’s pre-release. Hermione was flushed, her nipples hard, sweat beginning to form on her upper body. He could hear the soft gasps of breath in between moans and whimpers that caused his cock to twitch.

 

“Charlie, please. I need you inside me,” she begged, her voice even demanding when she was aroused and desperate to come.

 

“Not yet, love,” Charlie purred. “Come for me. Let me hear you scream my name, then maybe I’ll fuck you.”

 

“Bastard,” she cursed as she tangled her fingers in Charlie’s short hair. Bill could feel those fingers in his own, longer hair. Pulling tight, tugging on his hair until he was ravishing her with his lips and tongue.

 

“Now, now,” Charlie laughed huskily before biting her nipple. “Don’t let Mum or Dad hear you say that, you naughty little brat.”

 

Bill stopped moving his hand as he watched her come, noticing that Charlie had stopped teasing so he could watch her, too. She cried out Charlie’s name, her back arching off the bed, her breasts trembling with the gasps of breath she inhaled, her face flushed, sweaty, and beautiful. Before she’d finished whimpering, Charlie’s hand was out of her cunt and he was buried inside what Bill knew must be tight, wet heat.

 

Watching his little brother fuck her was nearly as arousing as watching her come. Bill’s hand began to move again, trying to reach the speed of deep thrusts that Charlie was making inside her. There was nothing slow or gentle about their union, the flexing of Charlie’s arse indicating that he was pushing into her as deep as possible, her body moving off the bed to take him completely, their lips meeting in a kiss that left him envious. His tongue wet his lips as he thought of kissing her, of kissing Charlie; those thoughts making him groan against his arm.

 

Maybe this time he’d tell them he was there, ask Charlie if he could play, remind his little brother about those times when they were barely twenty and shagged the same girls. But Hermione was different. She wasn’t just another girl. Charlie worshipped her, something Bill noticed even if no one else had bothered to see the truth. So he knew he wouldn’t say anything because they might not understand. Hell, he didn’t even understand. Listening to them, recognizing the signs, he began to wank harder, squeezing and tugging, biting his bottom lip as he came, his seed splashing onto his stomach and the glass door before dripping to the balcony.

 

Charlie moved his hand between them and Hermione cried out, keening with pleasure as she came. When Charlie sunk deep into her, Bill heard his low grunt of her name as he came, watching scratches form on his little brother’s freckled back as she moved her hands over the sun-kissed skin. This was when he looked away, staring at the night sky and the stars as they cuddled, whispering words of love, giving them privacy for that intimate moment.

 

Guilt spread over him as he leaned against the wall, his clean hand running through his long hair. He had violated their privacy again, standing outside and watching them fuck, wanking like some pervert. Bloody hell, he dreamed about shagging his own brother and his brother’s girl so perhaps pervert was too kind a word for him. Bringing his seed coated hand to his mouth, he closed his eyes and licked, knowing it was wrong to do this, knowing they might hate him if they ever found out, knowing he couldn’t stop.

 

Looking over his shoulder, he saw them kissing tenderly, hands moving slowly over each other, both basking in the afterglow of their union. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. Sighing softly, he hoped Pansy had another party soon.

 

The End  



End file.
